


empire state of mind

by gdgdbaby



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-08 07:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14100399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gdgdbaby/pseuds/gdgdbaby
Summary: It's been at least a month since they last saw one another; it's the first time, actually, since Ronan moved into this new place.





	empire state of mind

**Author's Note:**

> written originally for [this prompt](https://podsavethekink.dreamwidth.org/659.html?thread=1171#cmt1171) on the kink meme, which asked for rimming and/or fucking against ronan's window over looking the nyc skyline; cleaned up here. for reference: [ronan's apartment](http://www.mydomainehome.com.au/ronan-farrow-new-york-apartment/).

The first thing Lovett sees when he steps out of the shower and pads back into the bedroom is the strong line of Ronan's back, and then the sharp cut of his shoulder blades, and his legs sliding against each other beneath the duvet. Lovett's mouth waters a little as he watches Ronan's muscles work underneath his skin, the slow rise and fall of his torso as he breathes.

Lovett's palms itch. He wants to reach out and smooth his thumb over the knobs of Ronan's spine, suck a mark into the back of his neck.

For another minute, though, he lets himself just hover at the doorway and keep looking. They don't get to do this often enough; the novelty of being with each other in person hasn't worn off quite yet. It's been at least a month since they last saw one another; it's the first time, actually, since Ronan moved into this new place. Lovett spent most of the afternoon learning to navigate the space, learning where the PS4 controllers and Settlers of Catan expansion packs are stashed, learning how to operate the fancy coffee maker Ronan had installed in the kitchen.

He can wait to relearn Ronan's body for a little while more, if it means he gets to watch him in gentle repose.

"I can feel you staring," Ronan says, after another long moment. He's grinning when he turns over to face Lovett, eyes crinkled at the corners, so he can't be too annoyed. "Are you coming over or not?"

Lovett huffs. "Needy," he says, but he tosses the towel around his waist aside, hears it hit the floorboards with a quiet rustle, and sinks down onto the bed, knees leaving little divots in the foamy mattress.

"Takes one to know one," Ronan returns, which is fair. He props himself up on one elbow and reaches out, eyes gleaming, circles Lovett's soft cock carefully with one hand, fingers wrapping around the shaft. He tugs, slow and systematic, as Lovett leans down and kisses him. Ronan's mouth is soft and plush and warm, and he still tastes faintly of toothpaste.

There's early evening light slanting in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Over the slick slide of their mouths, Lovett can hear faint sounds floating up from the street, honking horns and busy foot traffic, the typical bustle of the Upper West Side.

"Should we draw the curtains?" Lovett asks, already kind of breathless when he pulls back.

"Mm," Ronan says, shaking his head. "I wanna try something, actually." He rolls off the side of the bed closest to the windows and pulls Lovett with him. There's a tiny thud as Ronan's back hits the glass, and then they're kissing again, Lovett pressing close because he can't not—wouldn't know how to deny Ronan anything, even if he tried.

"You sure about this?" he asks anyway, just to pay lip service.

"We're like twenty stories up," Ronan says. He chews on his lip for a moment, palming Lovett's neck. "And the glass is tinted."

"So we're not indulging your voyeuristic streak," Lovett says, which earns him a laugh. "Good to know."

"Next time," Ronan promises, and turns around so he can look out at the skyline, cheek pressed to the glass, the long line of his back visible again.

Lovett hitches his chin over Ronan's shoulder and turns his face into the messy, unstyled ruffle of Ronan's hair, breathes in the sharp smell of sandalwood. He lets himself sag there, just a second, and then murmurs, "What do you want?" Ronan sighs, pressing back so Lovett's dick slides up against the pert curve of his ass and nestles in between the cheeks. "Yeah?"

"Prepped when you were washing up," he says, which makes something zing through Lovett, electric and desperate. They've been doing this for years, at this point; it's always a pleasure when one of them still manages to surprise the other. Lovett scrapes his teeth against Ronan's jumping pulse, sucks at the skin there, his hands darting forward and sliding around toward Ronan's crotch.

"Didn't know you'd woken up from napping," Lovett says, pulling Ronan's dick to full hardness with ease. "Should've joined me in the shower."

"Next time," Ronan repeats, squirming. His breath is already fogging up the windowpane, and it hitches a little as Lovett twists his hand around the head of his cock.

it feels like they're always promising each other next times, these days. It's the second time tonight, and maybe Lovett should've learned to accept it by now: the idea that it's hard to figure out the right timing with schedules as erratic as theirs, when they won't know when they'll even be in the same city next, let alone close enough to touch. But—Lovett shouldn't be thinking about that now. Right now is for sliding two fingers inside Ronan, feeling how hot and slick he already is, spreading them to hear him moan.

Ronan's hips stutter erratically, like he isn't sure whether to push forward into the window and the hand on his dick or backward against Lovett's fingers. He makes a frustrated noise in his throat. "Just fuck me," he mutters, sweaty palms squeaking as they slide across the window, head falling back against Lovett's shoulder.

Lovett makes a noise of dissent and keeps opening him up slowly, listening to the slick sound of his fingers moving in and out, Ronan's harsh, panting breath in his ear. Ronan sags against him as Lovett twists his fingers in deeper, and then fits a third in with a loud squelch.

"Please," he says. "Jon, come on."

"Since you asked so nicely," Lovett says, exhaling. He props Ronan up against the window, drops another kiss on the bare curve of his shoulder, and slides into him from behind in one smooth motion.

" _Fuck_ ," Ronan says with feeling, the word cracking in half.

Lovett says, "Yeah," voice wound tight, and stays still for as long as he can handle, setting his teeth against the incredible feeling of Ronan clenching around him. He presses his mouth against the back of Ronan's neck again, teeth worrying at the juncture of where it meets his shoulder, gaze drifting to peer out the window. The city really does look beautiful from twenty stories up. The view is ridiculous, but Lovett glances down at his hand still loosely clenched around Ronan's dick, takes in the pale, pretty flush of Ronan's skin and then, scooting back, the way they're joined together, Lovett's hips pressed flush against Ronan's ass, and thinks: _this is better_.

"Move," Ronan says, demanding. It's one of the things Lovett likes most about him, that he knows when to push, that he'll ask for the things he wants.

Lovett takes a deep breath, lets it back out, and starts fucking Ronan into the glass in earnest, fingers curling a little tighter around the base of Ronan's dick just to hear him hiss. Ronan's only loud when he chooses to be, and he's choosing to be, now, little gasps falling out of his mouth as he pushes back to meet Lovett's thrusts, groaning when he slides in at just the right angle.

it's good—it's perfect—but it can't last. Lovett can feel the pressure building at the tops of his thighs already, pleasure coiled tight in his stomach. He rises up on his toes, forces himself into Ronan even faster. "That's it," Ronan pants, "Jon—fuck, c'mere," and he twists his head back to kiss Lovett, tongue curling up against the roof of Lovett's mouth, humming against his lips.

Lovett ignores the cramp brewing in his calf and keeps going until he can't anymore, every muscle in his body tensing as he slides back in one more time and comes, one hand slamming against the glass of the window so hard he can hear it reverberating, after.

"Jon," Ronan says, and his voice sounds punched out of him. He mouths wetly at the underside of Lovett's chin, hand reaching up blindly to hold onto Lovett's arm. "You have to— _God_ —"

"I know, I know, I got you," Lovett babbles, and he strokes Ronan's dick twice, rocks forward even as the oversensitivity makes him groan.

Ronan comes all over the window. Faintly, Lovett thinks, _we'll have to wash all that shit off, later_. It should be gross, but mostly he feels tired and sweaty and satisfied, leaning against Ronan, as close as two people can be to one another. It's hard to summon the energy to move, but he has to pull out eventually, and the bed is only two steps away.

Ronan curls up against Lovett like a big house cat when they get there, head rolling over to rest against his chest. "You're making it hard to breathe," Lovett wheezes, but there's no heat to it, and Ronan just snuggles in closer.

"Too bad," he murmurs into Lovett's collarbone. He plants a kiss there, wet and sloppy, and then lets out a drowsy yawn. He's always useless after an orgasm, body limp and boneless, eyes half-lidded after he's been taken apart. _Perfect_ , Lovett thinks, and bites back a smile.

"So I like the apartment," Lovett says blandly, after a long moment of silence. He laughs when Ronan smacks his arm.

A beat later, though, Ronan says, "I'm glad," low and tremulous, like it means something, like it matters. Like this space is meant for both of them, even though they still live on opposite coasts, and who knows when Lovett will be back? Ronan will still be here, and so will the scratchy plaid comforter beneath them, the tasteful art hanging on the walls and the pretentious Anthropologie end-table that definitely cost way too much.

It'll feel more lived in with time, he's sure. Ronan brushes his lips against Lovett's skin again, and warmth blooms in Lovett's stomach. He presses his mouth to the crown of Ronan's head and breathes in.


End file.
